


adequate

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: (14:04): i cant stp thinkin abt ur mouth & its drivign me nutsI read the message about seven times over, basking in the horrid grammar and implications. I’m an ace student, always paying attention in class, answering questions before they’ve fully left the instructor’s mouth, but with 12 questionably spelled words Snow has completely ruined me. Because I know exactly what he’s referring to, and it’s driving me mad just remembering the night before.Our relationship was slow going at first, for understandable reasons, but we’ve been together for a while now and Simon is still in therapy and getting better and Penelope was out of town last weekend and… we’ve made strides.---AKA, The One With The Questionable Stain
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 7
Kudos: 206





	adequate

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago in response to a smut prompt on Tumblr. 
> 
> I've meant to upload it here, but never ended up getting around to it, until now! Here we are!

**BAZ**

_**(14:04):** i cant stp thinkin abt ur mouth & its drivign me nuts_

I read the message about seven times over, basking in the horrid grammar and implications. I’m an ace student, always paying attention in class, answering questions before they’ve fully left the instructor’s mouth, but with 12 questionably spelled words Snow has completely ruined me. Because I know exactly what he’s referring to, and it’s driving _me_ mad just remembering the night before.

Our relationship was slow going at first, for understandable reasons, but we’ve been together for a while now and Simon is still in therapy and getting better and Penelope was out of town last weekend and… we’ve made strides.

I still don’t quite know what Simon’s block was, what kept him from wanting me to touch him, from wanting to kiss me let alone do anything _more_. He hasn’t talked to me about it, but he must have talked to his therapist, because he rang me Friday evening and asked me to spend the night with him. He wasn’t used to being alone in the flat, and I wasn’t going to say no. Even if I was just keeping an eye on him while Bunce was gone, being around Simon Snow is always better than not.

For once, it was _him_ doing the plotting. We had dinner, then we watched a film, and then Simon snogged me senseless on his sofa. Simon hadn’t snogged me senseless in ages, and this was almost more comparable to that first night in my room back at home. After the fire, after Simon first kissed me. He was kissing me like he needed me, tugging at my head and shoulders and waist like I couldn’t be close enough, panting into my mouth like it was too much, too _unthinkable_ , to pull away long enough for a proper breath.

If I thought the snogging alone was a surprising development, what came next had me choking on my breath.

_“Can I suck you off?”_

He didn’t even stop kissing me to ask, his mouth was still working relentlessly against my neck, sucking and biting at the skin beneath my ear, and I almost thought I’d imagined it. That his words were a fever dream, that I was too overcome with lust to be thinking properly and I made it all up. Then he did stop, holding himself over me to look in my eyes, _“Baz?”_

The pause seemed to shake his confidence, but he repeated himself anyway. “ _C-Can I? Erm, can I suck you off?”_

 _“Crowley,”_ was the only response I could muster, and Simon didn’t seem to know what to make of that. His brow furrowed, I think he was trying not to look disappointed.

“ _I- It’s okay. If not, I mean. I -”_

 _“Fuck, no - I mean,_ yes _, Simon. I - Fuck, yes, you can, I’d like that. Please.”_

That answer suited him better and he was taking care of my trousers and pants with astounding efficiency. I grabbed his wrist, almost kicking myself for doing so, but this was important. “ _Simon, wait. Is there - Shouldn’t we be discussing this?”_

 _“Should we?”_ He parroted back, looking absolutely impatient. “ _You’re my fit boyfriend, I would quite like to place your cock in my mouth, and you’d also enjoy that scenario, yeah? What more is there to discuss?”_

There was a lot more to discuss, as it were, but we didn’t get into it then. No, rather than allowing me the chance to argue that maybe we _should_ , Simon shimmied down my body, pulled my cock free, and unceremoniously took me into his mouth. It was wet, and sloppy, and I could tell that Simon wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but the one thing about Simon Snow is that he doesn’t give up. He kept working his mouth and tongue over me, changing angles and speeds and techniques until he pulled a groan out of me. I tried to help him by shifting my hips and placing a hand in his hair to guide him, and we worked together until my back was arching off the sofa and I was gasping a warning out to Simon before coming down his throat.

Simon crawled back up after tucking me into my pants, watching me with a self-satisfied grin. _“Not bad for a first blowie, eh?”_

I was still panting as I watched him, shook my head, said, _“It was adequate.”_

Something flickered in his eye then, a challenge, and he pressed his hips against my side. (He was still hard.) “ _Show me what I could do better, then.”_

I was just as new to this as he was, but now there was an element of competition to it. Even if the judging was biased, I wanted to give better head. Suppose I wanted to give head full stop, and so I did. I pushed at Simon’s shoulders, rolled until I was hovering over him and worked my way down his body until I was, well, head-to- _head_ with his cock. He was straining in his trackies, not even wearing _pants_ , the bastard.

I tugged his waistband down to his thighs, and I can only imagine I was marginally more reserved than he had been. If anything, I had the advantage because I had just had his mouth on me and I was trying to recreate what he’d done that felt so good. He was much more vocal, which made my job even easier, it never had been hard to figure out what it took to make Snow cry.

He copied me as well, sinking his fingers into my hair and pulling if I did something that felt especially good. I tried to double my efforts then, see how much harder I could get him to pull, and kept on until Simon was rambling nonsensically, every few words punctuated with a lewd cry of my name. If I hadn’t already come, I could have come from those sounds _alone_.

I pulled back until just his head was in my mouth, cheeks hollowed out as I sucked, and Simon’s grip tightened. I sunk down to the do the same again, only this time he pulled even harder, _much_ harder, moaning as he did so and fully pulling me off of him. He came, shooting streaks of white over his belly, onto his shirt, and across my face.

“ _Oh, fuck,”_ He swore as soon as he regained his mental capacities enough to realize what had just happened. “ _Shit,_ shit _, darling, sorry, I’m-”_

He reached a hand out, swiping at the come on my cheek, then looked down at his hand as if he hadn’t fully thought that out just yet. Of course he hadn’t. I couldn’t help it, I just started laughing at him, and he started laughing as well.

After the break of hysterical laughter, Simon carefully pulled his shirt over his head and used it to wipe at the mess on my cheek and his stomach. He folded the shirt up and dropped it to the floor and pulled me back to him, letting me nestle my head against his collarbone.

It wasn’t until later that night that we realized our fatal mistake, that somewhere between Simon’s orgasm and our clean-up, a smudge of spunk had made its way onto the cushions.

“ _That’s a stain I’ll have a hard time explaining later,”_ he muttered, then wiped at it again with a napkin. “ _It’s hardly noticeable, right?”_

It was not hardly noticeable. We managed to not make such a mess the rest of the weekend, but after that first taste it was like Simon was insatiable.

I was, too.

After class I have to convince myself not to sprint to Simon’s flat, and once there I’m greeted with several kisses and another round of mutual blowies. It’s in the midst of this post-orgasmic bliss that Penelope returns and notices the hardly noticeable stain.

And Simon’s right, he has quite a time explaining that one.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: @pipsqueakparker 
> 
> (i'm always accepting prompts, and you may see them over there before i get the chance to post them here)


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